candy

54 Entries for “candy”

Liss and Jack kept going around the carnival looking for a way out, they had been trapped in there for two days now with other people too. But the other ones didn’t seem to care, they were playing with the attractions or trying to win prizes like they just arrived. Kids ran past them with cotton candy, that reminded them they hadn’t eaten in twelve hours.

Christian popped the caramel into his mouth, rolling it around curiously.
“I don’t know why you wanted one, it’s not like you have taste buds,” Takumi sighed. He jolted when Christian bit down harshly on the candy with a sharp crunch.
“I like them,” he shrugged.

Seth put out a bowl of candy for the children to pick at, and then he led me into his office. The room was white and shrouded with red curtains, so the entire space had a soft, yet evocative, pink glow. I sat down on one of the couches, and Seth wheeled his way over to his desk, swiping a folded piece of paper from its surface before opening it up.

“I’ve wanted to read this to you for a long time,” he said, “but I didn’t want your kids to know about it.”

He looked at her and swore his teeth would rot. The amount of kindness she stored inside her soul was sickening. The boy just couldn’t understand how the girl could give and give, but never take. He swore he could get a cavity just thinking about her. But he wouldn’t think about her. For fear of ruining his teeth. Yeah, his teeth and nothing else.

You are like candy to me. I had one taste, and in turn was completely enamored from the sensation. I am all yours; you have all of me. Anything you want, I will do it. I am transported to a state of euphoria from your very touch.

It’s a form of addiction. An addiction to feeling understood, accepted, a part of this journey for two. Where an intimate confession transformed into a level of closeness I have never had before.

It happened in the blink of an eye.

Being apart from your embrace was torture. I don’t know what was worse, going through the withdrawals then or looking back now on that potential normal.

Will you, a sweet delicacy of every person you touch, one day wake up and not want me any longer? Am I worth being with all you are?

The fact that all this could cease to be through a change of gears, a different way of thinking, a time where we grow apart is one I continue to twist and turn over in my mind.

I’m on a sugar high, bouncing back and forth on the walls of my brain. Could there be a time where we no longer feel this way? Where we don’t know what became of us? Where we don’t want to be together?

The very idea of this makes me want to run and hide before something irreversible happens. A candy once so sweet and pure resulting in sour bitterness? Unfathomable.

You are like candy to me. I had one taste, and in turn was completely enamored from the sensation. I am all yours; you have all of me. Anything you want, I will do it. I am transported to a state of euphoria from your very touch.

It’s a form of addiction. An addiction to feeling understood, accepted, a part of this journey for two. Where an intimate confession transformed into a level of closeness I have never had before.

Life changing events can happen in the blink of an eye. And most times you don’t realize you are in them when you are.

Being apart from your embrace was torture. I don’t know what was worse, going through the withdrawals then or looking back now on how that situation could be the future normal.

Will you, a candied delicacy, one day wake up and not care any longer? Will you, my love, come to believe I am not worth being with all that you are?

I would not want to live in a world without your sweet embrace. Your thoughts are sugar crystals. Your mind the entire chocolate fountain. You send goosebumps down my arms and shivers down my spine. My heart beating out of my chest, my soul captive under your spell.

The fact that all this could cease to be through a change of gears, a flip of a page, or a fork in the road is one I continue to twist and turn over in my mind.

I’m on a sugar high, bouncing back and forth on the walls of my brain. Could there be a time where we no longer feel this way? Where we don’t know what became of us? Where we don’t want to be as we are?

The idea of this makes me want to run and hide before something irreversible happens. A candy once so sweet and pure resulting in sour bitterness? Unfathomable.

The clouds looked like cotton candy, or how she imagined cotton candy should look like. She had never seen it in real life, much less tasted it. But as she lay on her back, she imagined that it would taste cloud clouds, light and smooth on the tongue, slightly sweet and watery.

The touch was delightful. A world of caloric density lay just beyond the tactile return of tooth and tongue on candied surface. No-one would understand, no matter how universal the experience of loving an inanimate object.

“It’s like taking candy from a baby.” That’s not a very nice saying. But why is it so common and popular? As times change, and as people change, words we use and say change and evolve. Even the word “candy” was once only known as sweets. The only “candy” I knew growing up was “cotton candy”, which people nowadays call “fairy floss”.

She popped the chocolate in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I’ve always thought that it was more complicated than that. Isn’t it?” He looked at her, puzzled. “Why should it be?” She shrugged nonchalantly. It was an act. Her insides were screaming and the candy wasn’t really helping.

I love candy. There are different types of candy. My favorite type is all of the fruit Candy’s. Different types of candy taste different. I like sour stuff the most. Chocolate candy is kind of nasty. I only like a couple types of chocolate candy

She had always liked candy. She loved the sweetness, the calm, pure joy that exploded across her tongue with each piece. It’s why she kept a bowl of candy on her desk.

But, watching him stuff the fifth Jolly Rancher into his mouth, sticky green spit bursting from the corner of his mouth as he did so, and toss the wrapper onto her desk alongside the others made her want to dump the entire bowl into the garbage.

I LOVE CANDY IT IS REALLY YUMMY AND ITS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD
AND ON HALLOWEEN WE GET CANDY FROM STRANGERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!I LOVE CANDY AND I THINK INSTEAD OF RAIN RAINING I WANT CANDY TO RAIN THAT WOULD BE SO COOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE CANDY SOO MUCH THAT I COULD EAT IT ALL DAY AND MY FAVORITE CANDY IS NOW AND LATER THAT IS THE BEST CANDY IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD

Something I crave nonstop, but really do not crave (mentally).
People like to consider me candy, though. Eye candy. I find the whole measure absolutely ridiculous, as I am not sweet, I am more bitter. But I can agree, I am bad for your health.

He kept asking me where I put it, but he wasn’t telling me what the ‘it’ was. This was the game we played every day when I stopped in to see Mr. Riddle. His mind had gone somewhere else a long time ago, but now you could tell that it was never coming back. For awhile, I’d been able to talk with him for a few hours; he’d remember a lot of what we talked about and forget some. Now the whole thing was turned around; he could remember for about a second or two, then it was gone, like smoke, no, more like steam. Today, he was asking me where I put it, and I couldn’t figure out what he meant. “You’re a smart kid, why can’t you find it?” he asked.
“Mr. R, I don’t know what the it is you’re talking about.” Then he gave me the finger. This nice old British guy who I’d known for years, who’d taught me how to drink tea the right way (with milk, no sugar), who’d told me all about the war (he didn’t fight in it, he was some kind of warden who went around London at night, rounding up people to run for cover); this nice old guy flipped me the bird. Then he did it again and again. All of a sudden, I got what the it was.
Candy. Inside the cookie jar with the bird on the lid. Do you think he was flipping me the bird so I could connect the bird with the cookie jar? I asked a nurse I know who takes care of people like Mr. R. “God, Rudy, that’s very complex for someone in his condition. I think you made a lucky guess is what I think.” She can say what she wants. The way I see it, maybe people who have what Mr. R has have a lot more going for them than we think. I’m going to stick with that theory. Because Jesus, I love the old guy.